Chapter Thirteen: Escape

- - - - -

"You can only get one of us out," Tim repeated dumbly.

"Yes, I am sorry. The logistics of the escape were something I worked out weeks ago, in case I ever had to get someone out. Figure in the distraction required, and that allows for only one person with me."

Simultaneously, Tim and Alvarez pointed at each other and said, "Take him."

"Tim, no; you're young—"

"—and you have valuable experience," Tim cut the older man off. "No, it makes more sense for me to stay. I'm still trying to get a handle on what Nels is doing." Before Alvarez could protest, Tim asked Marthe Lindholm, "You said, 'take one person with you'. So you can get Enrique out and to safety? Why do I get the feeling that all hell will break lose when you're discovered missing?"

"I do think I know what I'm doing, Agent McGee, so please don't look at me like that," she replied. "I am coming back. My work here is not done yet. I should be able to get the commander out and be back before anyone notices."

"When?"

She took a deep breath. "Now. I am supposed to be on the way to the grocery store. The guard on the side door on this shift is new and stupid; he doesn't know that there are prisoners here and will not question that I take someone with me shopping to carry the bags."

Alvarez turned, clearly of mixed minds. "Tim, I—I—"

"It's okay, Enrique. Really. Don't worry about me; I'm still determined to get out in one piece." Tim forced a smile, wishing he felt as confident as what he was saying.

"I know. And I'll bet you'll do fine. That much said—Tim, please be very careful." Alvarez gripped Tim's hands in his own. There was so much he wanted to say. The shy computer geek had grown on him with his humor and courage. "So long, son. We'll get you out of here before you know it. You have my word on that!"

"Thanks," Tim smiled, though he knew that was not likely to happen. The imprisonment had been bearable only because Alvarez, someone he knew and liked, had been there. "Godspeed." At least, one of us will get out of this alive. He'll get through to NCIS, and NCIS will tell mom and dad what happened to me…

As Marthe and Alvarez left, Tim smiled and waved. The smile dropped from his face as soon as their backs were turned. He had never felt so alone.

- - - - -

Tony and Schultz paused for lunch at Burger King; food hot and quick, which suited them. With Tim and Alvarez now missing for three days, they didn't want to waste a moment.

"Let's recap," said Schultz, pulling out her notes. "We have nine properties that have exchanged hands in the last year that appear to be large enough for a lab. We've crossed three off the list. Which one do we want to do next?"

Studying the list, Tony said, "Nothing on here stands out. Let's save time by going for the two that are closest to each other. Let me see your map…okay; these two. West 10th Street and Joy Avenue."

"Sounds good. I hope we hit paydirt soon. If we don't, we need to finish off this list today."

"Why? You got something on tomorrow?"

"No, I just mean I'll try another angle. I'm not giving up."

"I'm not, either," said Tony, and they knocked fists together.

- - - - -

As the agent Baking Nell/Marthe had said, the guard at the front door barely glanced at Marthe and Alvarez as they went out. Cheap labor? Alvarez wondered. If this man had been under his command, Alvarez would have given him a swift kick in the rear.

Acting as nothing was amiss, they got into Marthe's sedan and headed out."Any chance we're being followed?" Alvarez asked, having noticed that Marthe was making a lot of turns.

"There's always a chance…but I have not observed any, ah, tails since I took on this assignment. But just in case, I never take a direct route."

They were silent for a few minutes. Alvarez felt fairly calm; the averaging, perhaps of his delight at being released and his fear of what would happen to Tim. "If you could let me off at the Metro station, I could—"

Marthe suddenly pulled off onto a side street that ran through a scrap of woods at the edge of a housing development, with tennis courts, basketball courts, and a baseball field nearby. The area was deserted, of course; school wouldn't be out for another hour or two. Pulling over to the curb, Marthe parked. "This is where I must drop you. I am sorry. I can't be seen with you.

"What?! Why here?! In the middle of…nowhere!"

"Not exactly. You're only a mile from the town center…which direction that is, is up to you to find out."

Alvarez eyed her. "You're setting me up to fail!"

"No, just delay you a bit, perhaps. Nels has other eyes watching the town. You should try to remain inconspicuous. Here, wear this hat." She handed him an Irish wool tweed hat.

He put it on, grudgingly. "Not really my style."

"Sorry. Go now. Be discrete. And don't hurry back to Washington."

"Don't hurry back?! Why the hell not?! As soon as I can get to a phone, I'm calling NCIS, and—"

"NO!" Quickly she calmed down. "You must not do that!"

"But Tim's life could be in danger!"

"And I have an assignment to complete! Nels must be allowed to continue with his work, at least for another few days. Tim will have to be patient."

"Lady, your priorities are seriously twisted! I am not going to let Tim suffer, as is sure to happen once I'm found to be missing! Now I'm sure you mean well, and I do thank you for getting me out. But I have to do what I feel is right. If you're not going to shut down this idiotic operation now, I will! Goodbye!"

"No, you're not!" she cried, and to his astonishment, she drew out her gun, and fired.

- - - - -

Tony held up a hand: Stop. Listen. Voices, a man's and a woman's. "Alvarez. I'd bet Gibbs' first cup of coffee of the day on it." They had just gotten out of the car to visit the house on Joy Avenue.

"Yeah. Over this little rise, I think." They hustled, quietly; Tony with his gun drawn; Klara with a knife from her personal collection.

"But I have to do what I feel is right. If you're not going to shut down this idiotic operation now, I will! Goodbye!"

"No, you're not!"

Tony swore under his breath,.In time to witness, they were; not in time to prevent. They saw Alvarez go down, and the woman-shooter walk over to him with ease, appearing, maybe, ready to dispatch him.

"No you don't!" Schultz yelled, and tackled the surprised woman, sending her gun flying. Tony tossed her his handcuffs, which Schultz slapped on the woman.

"He's still alive," Tony said, kneeling beside Alvarez, "but it doesn't look good. Gut wound, and at his age…"

"Yeah, yeah; all of us over-50s should just curl up and die. Or retire, which is almost the same thing," Schultz snarled, pulling out her cell phone. "Hello, 911. I need an ambulance at, uh, Pheasant Lane, by the baseball diamond. A man has been shot…"

Tony pressed down on the wound. Alvarez looked terrible, and his breathing was increasingly bad. How in the world did Alvarez get out here? Who's this woman? And has she already killed McGee? He shook with fear at the thought.